


Gone Away

by elixia13



Category: Vampire Diaries - Smith
Genre: Angst, Gen, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-29
Updated: 2010-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-06 19:26:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elixia13/pseuds/elixia13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stefan is having a hard time dealing with Elena's death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gone Away

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for Vampire Diaries 1-3, nothing for VD 4. I'm fudging the details a little to fit my story.

When Elena died, Stefan wanted nothing more than to follow her. He had traipsed the earth these five centuries, accomplishing nothing. He was just another boy, just . . .forever. And she had been so different, so bright and glowing and she didn't even live a score of years. Only for the sake of Bonnie and Meredith and even Damon did he stop himself from pulling off his own ring and falling to dust in the shaft of sunlight. After all these years, there would have been nothing left of him. Nothing left to bury.

(Maybe in another life  
I could find you there  
Pulled away before your time  
I can't deal it's so unfair)

In the end he and Damon had to leave Fell's Church. Damon was in bad shape, but they would both be in worse shape if the locals got to them again. They both wanted to leave the US and return to Italy, but first Damon had to heal. For a vampire to heal from near-mortal wounds, he had to sleep, stay out of the sun's light, emerging only to eat, hunting at night.

Stefan found them a small but elegant apartment in Washington DC. At first he was nervous about staying so close to Fell's Church, but then he decided that hiding in the DC crowds was effective as hiding aywhere else. Plus, with all those tourists, Damon was less likely to get them in trouble. *Well,* Stefan sighed, *at least for a while*. Stefan had another reason for wanting to stay in the area--he didn't want to leave Elena, not yet.

Her death was still so fresh in his mind. The vivid horror of watching her burn in the sunlight. Holding her as she blinked out like a candle. Damon was healing, eating as well as always, but Stefan just didn't have the desire. The bloodlust burned in his veins, but he couldn't bear to drink more than he needed to stay on his feet.

Days, he wandered around DC. Looking at the monuments to this country's founders and heroes. Monuments to great deeds that happened while he, Stefan, was lolling around the Italian countryside. He stared at the Vietnam memorial for hours. Such a fitting testament to death. Endless glossy blackness looking rain-streaked even on a fine day. Faintly inscribed names. One huge tombstone.

He stood by the monument taking in the feelings of the human visitors, letting their grief, sorrow and regret wash over him like a poisoned tide. Letting their memories fill his mind to drive away his own thoughts. As always, he walked through the crowds without being seen, like a ghost passing among the living.

(And it feels  
And it feels like  
Heaven's so far away  
And it feels  
Yeah it feels like  
The world has grown cold  
Now that you've gone away)

And his nights he spent with Elena. He would take the Metro to the West Fell's Church station and walk to the graveyard. It was a good couple of miles from the station, but he walked it twice a night. Not using his powers, turned in on himself, he wouldn't have even cared if someone had seen him. Come to get him for the crimes they thought he did, crimes he felt guilty for even though the humans' accusations had been wrong.

Most nights he just sat by Elena's grave recalling every detail of her. The way her eyes had shone with determination. How she had been equally beautiful in the modern costume of jeans and sweaters as in Honoria Fell's dramatic white gown. How brave she'd been . . . But tonight was worse than usual. He couldn't stop himself from ruminating over all the things he'd done wrong, how he'd failed her. The long Metro ride passed quickly, and he almost missed his stop. He had to use his strength to hold the doors open and slip through.

His inner monologue of recriminations only stopped when he got to Elena's grave. He placed the flowers he brought for her, deep red roses, in front of the stone and knelt down. In the faint light, the roses looked almost black, like dried blood. Stefan felt a pull inside himself. He probably hadn't eaten in a couple days, but he didn't care. He let his thoughts drift off.

(Leaving flowers on your grave  
Shows that I still care  
But black roses and Hail Mary's  
Can't bring back what's taken from me.)

He thought of that night with Elena in his room. The soft skin of her face, her hair soft and glossy. The delicious smell of the blood flowing through her neck. Her sweet kisses, his teeth sinking into her neck and drinking, drinking. His need being filled with her bright essense, unlike this--

Stefan's eyes opened with a snap. In his hands he found a white hare. Limp, sucked dry of blood. It must have run close to him, and he'd just lashed out--

*Goddamnit! This is just what I did to her! Drank her innocence and destroyed her! Elena! Elena!* "Elena! Nooooo!" The cries began to rip out of him, breaking the night's silence. His powers unleashed, awoken by his anger, Stefan called out her name again, his voice nearly breaking. "Elena!" Clouds coalesced in the dark sky, and rain began to pour down, as if answering Stefan's call.

(I reach to the sky  
And call out your name  
And if I could trade  
I would)

Stefan couldn't hold onto himself anymore. Something seemed to rip open inside of him, and he was running. Throbbing with anger and grief, he ran out into the woods beyond the graveyard. He felt an irrational need to punish this place, punish it for being the place where Elena died, the place to hold her in the ground away from him. He tore through the woods, grabbing at saplings, tearing them down. He ripped them out of the earth by their roots, throwing them like rough lances, breaking them over his knee. Stefan's hands were growing raw from the broken wood and bark, but he didn't care.

A wild beat was drumming in his brain. He very nearly ran into town to kill. Kill the stupid humans who turned their backs on Elena, who tried to kill anything different from themselves. But at that he tripped on a sapling he had torn down. He found himself on his stomach in the leaf litter and noticed his bleeding hands for the first time. Though he couldn't feel the pain from the cuts, the pain in his chest was overwhelming.

(And it feels  
And it feels like  
Heaven's so far away  
And it stings  
Yeah it stings now  
The world is so cold  
Now that you've gone away)

Stefan put his hands close to his face and started gently licking them to start the healing process, but the pain inside of him was getting worse. Suddenly, as the dawn began to lighten the sky to gray, one more yell tore out of him. "Elena!" And then the tears came. Sobbing, he curled into a ball on the forrest floor. Bathing his wounds in his own tears, he mourned her.

That same week they would leave for the continent.

(Gone away, gone away  
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

The End


End file.
